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THE STATE FORBIDS 

A Play in One Act 



THE 
STATE FORBIDS 

A PLAY IN ONE ACT 



BY 

SADA COWAN 




NEW YORK 
MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

1915 



COPYRIGHT, 191 5, BY 
MITCHELL KENNERLEY 



3 \ 







PRINTED IN AMERICA 



JUN-5J9I5 

©CI.D 4 90 'J 



To 
"BUNNY . . ." 

Who has shared the 
sunshine and the shadow with me. 



CHARACTERS 

MRS. NASH 
HAROLD NASH 
POOR LITTLE ONE 
THE DISTRICT NURSE 
DR. SPENCER 



THE STATE FORBIDS 



CHARACTERS 

Mrs. Nash. 
Harold Nash. 
Poor Little One. 
The District Nurse. 
Doctor Spencer. 

Scene: Mrs. Nash's one room dwelling . . . desolation. At 
the left of the barren room is a small cook stove. It is 
not far from the door leading into the hall, which is at 
the back of the room. On the opposite side is a bed in 
which a woman l^s asleep. Not far from this, near the 
window, is a crude crib. The district nurse is prepar- 
ing food near the oil cook-stove. She moves noiselessly. 
The door opens and Harold Nash, a ten-year-old boy, 



10 THE STATE FORBIDS 

poorly clothed but well built and not under-nourished, 
bounces into the room. 

Harold. Hello! 

Nurse. [Laying her finger on her lips and pointing to the 
sleeping figure.'] Sh . . . h . . . ! 

Harold. [Lowering his voice.] Oh! [He slings down his 
cap.] You the nurse? 

Nurse. Yes. I suppose you're Harold. 

Harold. Sure. [He thrusts his hands into his pockets and 
shivers.] Gee . . . but I'm glad to get back. 

Nurse. [Reprovingly.] Don't talk so loud. 

Harold. [In low tones, glancing at his mother.] Why did 
I have to stay away so long? 

Nurse. Your mother was very sick. [Busy.] But four 
weeks isn't so terribly long. 

Harold. You'd think it was if you had to stay at Porter's 
punk hole. [A pause.] Anything to eat? 



THE STATE FORBIDS 11 

Nurse. [Stirring her cooking.] There will be presently. 
Hungry ? 

Harold. Am I? 

Nurse. [Smiles, ] Just a few minutes. You don't seem 
very anxious to see your new brother. 

Harold. [Makes a wry face indicating his indifference.] 

Nurse. I thought all little boys liked to have a brother. 

Harold. [Lazily going towards the crib.] Is that it? 

Nurse. Don't wake him. 

Harold. [Tiptoes to the crib and stands a moment staring 
down. Then he returns to the nurse.] Gee . . . ain't it 
ugly ! Phew ! 

Nurse. All little babies are ugly. 

Harold. [Surprised.] All got big heads like that? 

Nurse. [With meaning.] Not just like that. 

Harold. [Shuddering.] Ugh! Looks fierce! [A pause.] 
I'll bet it'll eat a lot. [Confidentially, sitting on the edge of a 
box.] Good thing my old man never saw him . . . 



12 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Nurse. [Reprovingly.'] Do you mean your father, Har- 
old? 

Harold. Sure. 

Nurse. Well, say " My father," then. 

Harold. Not for my old man. 

Nurse. [Smiles unwillingly.] 

Harold. [Prattlmg.] It's six months since the old man 
croaked . . . 

Nurse. [Reproachfully.'] Died, . . . Harold. 

Harold. [Meekly.] Died. And . . . I'll tell you some- 
thing, if you won't tell . . . 

Nurse. I won't tell. 

Harold. I don't believe Ma was any more sorry than me 
when he did kick out. 

Nurse. [As before.] Harold! 

Harold. Honest. He wasn't half good enough for her. 



THE STATE FORBIDS 13 

Everybody said so. And we was both awful scared of him 
when he was soused. 

Nurse. Drunk! 

i 

Harold. Drunk. And he was drunk all the time. If you 
don't believe me, ask Doctor Spencer. He'll tell you. 

Nurse. Doctor Spencer is very fond of you. 

Harold. He ought to be. He told Doctor Harris he 
made his reputation on me at the hospital. So he ought to 
like me. 

Nurse. You ought to like him. You'd have died if he 
hadn't pulled you through. 

Harold. [Confidentially.] I was tellin' one of the boys 
about when I was a kid and he said kids was sick like me when 
their old man . . . 

Nurse. [Hastily. ] Never mind what the boy said. He 
probably didn't know anyway. 

Mrs. Nash. [Stirs in Iter bed and stretches out her arms.] 
Oh . . . h! 



14 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Harold. [Going to the bedside.'] Hello, Ma. You sure 
can sleep. 

Mrs. Nash. [Kissing him.] Oh, Harold dear. 

Harold. [As though imparting news.] The baby's awful 
ugly, ain't it? 

Mrs. Nash. Mother hasn't seen little brother yet. [To the 
Nurse, imploringly.] But to-day . . . 

Nurse. As soon as the baby wakes up, Mrs. Nash. 

Mrs. Nash. You've been putting me off for days and days. 
Why can't I have my baby? 

Nurse. It was for your own good and the child's good. 
You've been too ill. 

Mrs. Nash. Oh, I dread to see him. What's the matter 
with him? 

Nurse. [Sharply.] Matter with him? Why should there 
be anything? 

Mrs. Nash. I'm so afraid! I . . . [Abruptly.] Give 
him to me, please. 



THE STATE FORBIDS 15 

Nurse. [More sharply.] You don't want me to wake him, 
do you? 

Mrs. Nash. No, I suppose not. 

[There is a knock on the door, an immediate open- 
ing, and Doctor Spencer enters. He is 
young, tall and business like. A man of mind 
but of conventional traming.] 

Doctor. Good morning. 

Nurse. Good morning. [She leaves her cooking, turns 
down the light, and comes to the bed, where she stands.'] 

Doctor. [Taking Harold's hand.] Hello, my boy! Glad 
to see you. [He lays his hat on the table.] 

Harold. [Very respectfully, for him.] Same to you, Doc- 
tor Spencer. 

Doctor. [Smilvng.] What do you say to the little present 
I brought you? [He goes to the bedside and feels the pa- 
tient 9 s pulse.] 

Harold. [Hangs his head somewhat sulkily.] 



16 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Nurse. He hasn't seemed over pleased. 

Doctor. [Returns to Harold and pats his head.] Run 
outside . . . there's a good fellow. I'll be here only a few 
moments. Then you can come back. 

Harold. Yes, sir. Will you whistle when you go? 

Doctor. Sure I will. 

Harold. [Going.] Thanks. [In the doorway he pauses. ] 
I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful, but being a friend 
of mine [with an indication towards the crib] . . . you 
might have dropped something better looking than that into 
the house. [He goes.] 

Doctor. [Now sits beside the bed. He addresses the 
Nurse significantly.] Mrs. Nash hasn't seen her baby yet? 

Nurse. No. 

Doctor. Um! 

Nurse. I thought you'd better be here. 

Mrs. Nash. Doctor ... I want my baby. 



THE STATE FORBIDS 17 

Doctor. Of course you do and you shall have it. But 
tell me first, how you are? How have you slept? 

Mrs. Nash. Just now I slept and I dreamed of my baby. 
He was big and beautiful and strong. Oh, I was proud of 
him. 

Doctor. [Cheerfully.] The sort of man Harold is going 
to be. 

Mrs. Nash. I hope so. And the Little One . . . [Plead- 
ingly; she is fearful of the answer.] The Little One, too? 

Doctor. [Gravely, somewhat hesitantly.] The Little One 
may not be quite so big and strong. 

Mrs. Nash. [Sitting up in bed.] Why? What do you 
mean ? 

Doctor. He's not strong. 

Mrs. Nash. [In terror.] But that's all . . . he's just not 
strong . . . ? There's nothing really the matter with him? 

Doctor. Nothing to be alarmed about. But he looks a 
little strange just now. So I want to warn you before you 
see him. 



18 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Mrs. Nash. [Unconvmced by the tone.] What's wrong 
with him, Doctor? Tell me. 

Doctor. He may be somewhat of an invalid, Mrs. Nash. 

Mrs. Nash. [Agonizing.] Oh, tell me . . . tell me. Is 
he crippled or maimed? Oh, don't try to spare me. Tell 
me. 

Doctor. Be quiet. Or I can't tell you. 

Mrs. Nash. What is it? Is he blind? Or deaf or de- 
formed ? 

Doctor. He's not blind or deaf or deformed . . . that is 
— not bodily. 

Mrs. Nash. [With Jwrror in her face.] You mean . . . ? 

Doctor. His mind. He won't be just like other children. 
You'll have to be very tender and patient with him. He'll 
need all the love you can give him. 

Mrs. Nash. [Bully.'] His mind . . . ! Oh, you don't 
mean he's a . . . 

Doctor. [Gently.] He is everything you fear. Just a 



THE STATE FORBIDS 19 

little helpless mass of life. That's all he can ever be. [Ris- 
ing.'] Now you know. 

Mrs. Nash. [Stunned, stares before her. Then she lets 
out a short sharp scream.'] 

Nurse. Oh, Doctor, ought you to have told her? 

Doctor. [Laying his hand firmly on Mrs. Nash's shoul- 
der.] She's got to know sometime. She's got to face it. 

Mrs. Nash. [Dully.] An idiot! My baby! [Sobs choke 
her. She turns to the Doctor.] Oh, perhaps it isn't as bad 
as you think. Harold was weak and sick and . . . [Her 
voice hardens.] No. Harold was born ten years before. 

Doctor. [Does not answer, but pats her shoulder ten- 
derly, waiting for her to grow quiet.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Harshly.] I heard a woman once talk just 
as I am talking. Only they lied to her. They said her baby 
could be cured. I looked at that child. [She shudders.] 
Ugh ! I shall never forget . . . the lolling big head, the . . . 

Doctor. Sh . . . h! This won't do you any good. 

Mrs. Nash. [As in a trance.] A child of a drunkard . . . 



20 THE STATE FORBIDS 

a degenerate . . . Just a Poor Little One . . . [an instant's 
pause] . . . like — Mine. [Presently the dull stoniness of 
emotion passes and she turns hysterically to the physician.] 
Don't let it grow up to suffer, Doctor. Don't let it live in 
hell. It doesn't know anything now. It's no use to itself. 
It's no use to any one on earth. Oh, Doctor, kill it ! That's 
the kind thing. That's humane. There's no harm. It's 
no more than throwing away a flower. 

Doctor. Sh . . . h! Be quiet please. You'll work 
yourself into a fever. 

Mrs. Nash. [Clingmg to him; hysterically.'] Kill it, Doc- 
tor . . . kill it! Don't let it live. Oh, why won't you end 
its suffering? Why? 

Doctor. I can't take life. That's impossible. Crip- 
pled, diseased, imbecile, whatever it is, it is life and I can't 
take it. 

Mrs. Nash. It's my child. I bore it. 

Doctor. The child has a right to live. 

Mrs. Nash. To live — yes. But this isn't life. It will 



THE STATE FORBIDS 21 

even never know it's alive. It will just stare and stare and 
know nothing. But I'll know it's alive. I'll have to watch it 
day by day and know that it's my fault. I did it. I can't, I 
tell you. I can't. It's a sin ... a crime. I won't let it 
live. I . . . 

Doctor. Mrs. Nash, you must be quiet. 

Mrs. Nash. [As before.] Kill it, Doctor. It wouldn't 
want to live if it could choose. You'd shoot a suffering dog. 
You'd kill a horse you loved rather than see it suffer. But 
my baby, a little human soul, you won't put out of torture. 
Well, I love it. Do you know what that means ? [She peers 
into his face fanatically.] If you won't kill it, I will. 

Doctor. [Matter of fact.] Nonsense, Mrs. Nash. You 
don't realize what you are saying. 

Mrs. Nash. [Excitedly.] I love it, I tell you. I bore it, 
dreamed for it, prayed for it. After I knew that it must 
come . . . Oh, how I prayed that it should be beautiful and 
strong. It should have all in life I had missed and now . . . 
[She breaks down.] Oh, my God! [A pause in which she 
sobs.] I won't do this thing, I tell you. I won't commit this 



22 THE STATE FORBIDS 

crime. It didn't want to come. It didn't ask to come. It 
shouldn't have come. [Resolutely.] And it sha'n't stay. 

Doctor. [Taking her hand.] Mrs. Nash, please, control 
yourself. 

Mrs. Nash. [Bursts into a hysterical fit of sobbing. The 
Doctor rises to allow her to grow quieter. The Nurse steps 
forward to him.] 

Doctor. I have told her too soon. A little bromide at 
once. [He opens his bag and gives the medicine to the Nurse. 
Both Doctor and Nurse stand bach to the woman.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Slips out of bed, a pillow in her hand, which 
she is almost too weak to hold. Feebly she totters towards 
the crib. Without looking at the infant, turning her face 
away so that she may not see what she is domg, she rams the 
pillow down upon the child and Jwlds it there. Then a moan 
escapes her and she totters, saves herself from fallkig by 
clutching at the crib. Still she looks persistently away. 
The Doctor and Nurse hear her and rush towards her. 
Again summoning all her strength Mrs. Nash presses the 
pillow down upon the child and holds it firmly, while she faces 



THE STATE FORBIDS 23 

the Doctor and Nurse, as an entrapped animal, about to 
spring.] It sha'n't live, I tell you ! 

Doctor. [Takes her arm. With the little strength she 
has left she struggles with him.] You'll hurt yourself. I'm 
stronger than you are. 

[The Nurse has lifted the pillow from the baby and 
fans the child with a bit of paper. She raises 
its head, bendmg over the crib.] 

Doctor. Think what you're doing. This would be mur- 
der. 

Mrs. Nash. [Standing still; dully, as though turned to 
stone.] Murder? No. Love — pity — compassion! 

Doctor. [Leading her towards the bed.] The State 
wouldn't see it your way, I'm afraid. You'd have a big price 
to pay. 

Mrs. Nash. [Intensely.] I'd be willing. 
Nurse. [Comes and arranges her m bed.] 
Doctor. [Sits near her agavn.] 



24 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Mrs. Nash. [Falls back upon her pillows exhausted. 
But after an instant she sits up and leans towards him. She 
is intensely wrought up and excited.'] I oughtn't to have 
borne that child. You knew it . . . 

Doctor. I warned you when Harold came not to have 
another baby. 

Mrs. Nash. [Bitterly.] You warned me! But how? 

Doctor. I told you . . . 

Mrs. Nash. [Passionately.] You didn't tell me. You 
hinted ! You gave me vague advice that left me as blind as I 
was before. 

Doctor. You are ungrateful. I told you all I dared. It 
is against the law to tell a woman ways and means to prevent 
conception. Perhaps you didn't know this. But it is 
against the law. 

Mrs. Nash. For ten years I chanced not to have a child.. 
It wasn't my wisdom or your help that kept me from it. And 
then — then when this happened and I knew, I came to you 



THE STATE FORBIDS 25 

and begged you . . . begged you on my knees ... to help 
me. But you wouldn't. 

Doctor. I couldn't help you. 

Mrs. Nash. [Savagely.] You wouldn't. 

Doctoe. It would have been criminal. 

Mrs. Nash. [Pointing to the crib.] More criminal than 
— that? 

Doctor. You asked an impossible thing. I only did my 
duty. No decent doctor would risk his career and face the 
criminal court to do the thing you wanted. 

Mrs. Nash. Oh, how you tortured me that day with all 
you told me. My heart ached for the little unborn thing. 
You stood there and saw. You saw the hell open before it 
. . . the life-long torture. But you wouldn't help. 

Doctor. [Gently.'] The State forbids such things, Mrs. 
Nash. It's taking life. Even unborn life is life, you know. 

Mrs. Nash. [Harshly, indicating the child.] I don't call 
that life. 



26 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Doctor. You shouldn't be unreasonable. I can't go 
against the State. [Now he includes the Nurse by an occa- 
sional glance.] Perhaps it isn't right or just when women 
need us doctors ; and God knows, they do need us. But what 
can we do ? Our hands are tied. 

Mrs. Nash. [Agonizing:, rocks to and fro.] 

Doctor. Personally I think a doctor should have as much 
say over life and death as a judge has. It would save a lot 
of misery. But that isn't the law. And we are helpless. 
[He glances at the Nurse.] You know I firmly believe in 
educating women to have only as many children as they can 
properly care for; as many as their strength permits [to 
Mrs. Nash] and in a case like yours — none. But as I say, 
the State . . . 

Mrs. Nash. [Vehemently.'] Oh, I know! I've seen it time 
and again. The mothers don't count. The babies don't 
count. It doesn't matter whether they're fed or clothed or 
happy. They grow up into men and women somehow. And 
that's all the State cares. Tools . . . ! Just so many 
tools. It won't ever help when it ought to. It wouldn't 
help me. It wouldn't let you help me. [She sobs while she 



THE STATE FORBIDS 27 

talks.] It made me have that baby even after I knew that it 
might be born cursed. [Hard.] But I've fooled them this 
time. That's a useless tool . . . it's no good to them. An 
idiot. [Breaking down.] My baby! Oh, my God! 

[While she is hysterically sobbing, the Nurse takes 
up the baby and brings it to her. It is held 
so that no one but the mother looks upon it. 
For an mstant she turns her face from it.~\ 

Mrs. Nash. Take it away. I don't want to see it. I 
don't ever want to see it. [Presently she looks, first with hor- 
ror and covers her eyes with her hands.'] Ugh! [Then she 
looks again and gazes fascinated. Now overcome with pity 
she opens her arms.] My baby! Poor little one! Poor lit- 
tle beggar! [The Nurse gives her the child, she holds it to 
her and kisses it passionately.] 

Doctor. [To the Nurse.] She's all right now. She won't 
hurt it. [He takes up his hat.] I'll drop in later. Good-bye. 
[He goes. An instant later a whistle is heard outside.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Lies back with her baby in her arms.] 

Harold. [Enters.] I'm awful hungry. [He walks to the 



28 THE STATE FORBIDS 

bed and watches the pair. Then he shrugs his shoulders, 
thrusts his hands contemptuously into his pockets, commences 
to whistle and walks to the window.'] I'm glad you've got 
something else to hug except me. 

Nurse. [Busy at the cook stove.] Don't you like to be 
hugged. 

Harold. [Looking out the window.] Naw. I'm too big. 
He'll be big some day, then he won't want to be hugged 
neither. 

Nurse. [Shudders at the suggestion.] 

Harold. [Turns and watches the child, contemptuously.] 
He's fierce ! I'll never like him. 

Nurse. [Dishes some soup and puts it on the table.] 

Harold. [At once / 'or gets mother and child and com- 
mences to eat rapidly.] 

THE CURTAIN IS LOWERED 



It is now ten years later. 

The room is a trifle less poverty stricken. The cook-stove 
has gone. There is also an inner room. 

Mrs. Nash is sewing. At her feet Poor Little One, a large 
overgrown boy, is discovered facing the window at the 
back of the room.* He is playing with toys. Now he 
raises his hands, high above his head, clasps them to- 
gether and bursts out laughing. Mrs. Nash shrinks 
slightly, as she always does at the sound of his senseless 
laughter. It lasts but a moment. Then in silence he 
continues to play. 

Mrs. Nash. [For a second stares at him broodingly, then 
continues to sew.~\ 

Harold. [A handsome lad of twenty, manly and well set 
up, enters. He kisses his mother and tosses a bag to the 
child.'] Here, Little One — catch! [The child makes no at- 
tempt to catch and the bag falls to the floor.] 

*The face of the idiot child, as baby or later, is never seen by the 
audience. 

29 



30 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Mrs. Nash. [Sadly.] It's no use, Harold. You can't 
teach him. 

Harold. Well, I'm not going to give up trying yet. 

Mrs. Nash. Doctor Spencer says you might as well make 
up your mind to it. 

Harold. He doesn't know everything. Something might 
happen. 

Mrs. Nash. After ten years? [Smiling sadly.] I'm afraid 
not. 

Harold. [Opens the bag and takes out a candy which he 
places in the child' 's mouth.] Here . . . open your mouth. 
[Then he turns to his mother and sits near her.] Has Mrs. 
Walker heard from Ralph? 

Mrs. Nash. No. It's very strange. I'm afraid it means 
bad news. 

Harold. The boys at the front are having a rotten time 
of it. Especially the green ones. They save all the talent 
and push the youngsters right on to the firing line. Devilish 
thing, this war ! 



THE STATE FORBIDS SI 

Mrs. Nash. Thank God, you didn't enlist when Ralph 
Walker did. I think it would have killed me, Harold. 

Harold. Don't worry about my enlisting. Nothing could 
make me. [Angrily.] Not even that hussy who called me — a 
coward ! 

Mrs. Nash. Who dared to call you a coward? 

Harold. Oh, never mind. 

Mrs. Nash. It's the- cowards who enlist. It takes courage 
to stay at home. 

Harold. You're right, Mother, it does. We could have 
avoided this war if we'd wanted to. We're as much to blame 
as the other side. 

Mrs. Nash. You'll keep out of it, Harold? No matter 
what happens? 

Harold. I've no desire, Mother, to go out and kill fellows, 
just young fellows like I am. Yes. I'll keep out of it — if 
I can. 

Mrs. Nash. My heart aches for every suffering mother in 
the world. 



m THE STATE FORBIDS 

Harold. It's tough. 

Mrs. Nash. [Reflectively.] Curious, isn't it? There's just 
one world, one mass of human beings together. Probably 
just one flag in the sight of God and yet . . . [She breaks off 
abruptly. ] Let's not talk about it, dear. It makes me sad. 

Harold. We've got to talk about it, Mother. It may 
strike home. 

Mrs. Nash. [Alarmed.] What do you mean? 

Harold. We have exhausted our volunteers. Now a con- 
scription order has been issued. 

Mrs. Nash. I don't understand. I don't know anything 
about such things. Is that the law? 

Harold. No. But in war times they make new laws. 
Each State is obliged to provide a certain number of men. 
Men who have to serve whether they want to or not. Their 
names are chosen, placed in a hat, all jumbled up together 
and drawn . . . [he smiles] . . . just as you would draw a 
lottery ticket. My name has gone into the hat, Mother. 
Down at the court house they are drawing now. 



THE STATE FORBIDS 33 

Mrs. Nash. Harold! * 

Harold. Such a crowd you never saw. Doctor Stevens is 
working his head off. He's surgeon general and has got 
charge of the entire recruiting. 

Mrs. Nash. [Terrorized.] Your name's not in, Harold 
. . . Oh, not your name ! 

Harold. [Lightly.] Yes . . . along with the rest . . . 
a whole load of men. There isn't a ghost of a chance that 
I'll be conscripted but . . . 

Mrs. Nash. No, Harold, no. I couldn't bear it. You're 
all I've got. You're all my life, my happiness. 

Harold. [Kissing her.] Why, Mother, what a baby you 
are. Anybody would think I were already chosen. 

Mrs. Nash. If you should be chosen, must you go? 

Harold. There's no free will about it, Mother. The 
State orders. You know what that means. 

Mrs. Nash. [With a long glance at Poor Little One.] 
The State! [Bitterly.] Sometimes I almost hate the State. 



34 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Harold. [Pats her hand.] There is one way out of con- 
scription. 

Mrs. Nash. Tell me. 

Harold. If a man is chosen, he can pay a certain sum of 
money . . . I'm not sure of the amount, and the State will 
provide a substitute. 

Mrs. Nash. That's some comfort. 

Harold. So even if I'm unlucky enough to be conscripted, 
we have one hope left. 

Mrs. Nash. And you sha'n't go. Not if it beggars us to 
keep you here. 

Doctor Spencer. [Enochs on the door. Harold opens 
it.~\ May I come in? 

Mrs. Nash. Yes, indeed. 

Harold. Hello, Doctor . . . come right in. Sit down. 

Doctor. [Sitting.'] I heard such a sobbing in the hall as 
I came up the stairs. I wonder what is wrong. 

Mrs. Nash. [Rising.'] Oh, perhaps Mrs. Walker has 



THE STATE FORBIDS 35 

heard something from her son. I'd better see. I won't be a 
minute. 

Doctor. [Rising.] If I can be of any help . . . 

Mrs. Nash. [Going.] I'll call you. 

Doctor. [When he is alone with the boy.] I've got bad 
news for you, Harold. 

Harold. Out with it ! 

Doctor. [Looks at him.] 

Harold. Called ... eh? 

Doctor. Yes. Called. Come with me now and regis- 
ter. 

Harold. I'm not going, Doctor. 

Doctor. You must, my boy. I'm here officially. You 
must register within an hour, or it means arrest. 

Harold. I don't believe in conscription. I won't be 
forced to murder. 



36 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Doctor. My dear boy, nobody believes in conscription the- 
oretically. When war breaks out it becomes a necessity. 
Be a man. Your country needs you. 

Harold. [Matter of fact, not sentimentally.'] Doctor, my 
mother needs me. 

Doctor. She'll get on. Other women do. 

Harold. I don't see how. 

Doctor. [Laying his hand on Harold's shoulder.] If 
each fellow stopped to think of the woman who needed him, 
how do you think we could carry on a war? 

Harold. A pity he doesn't think then. 

Doctor. [Urg'mg him.] You mustn't consider individuals, 
Old Fellow. 

Harold. [Hotly.] No one ever has considered individuals. 
That's been most of our trouble. 

Doctor. [Pleasantly.] I'm not a Socialist or Anarchist 
or any other kind of an 1st. 



THE STATE FORBIDS 37 

Harold. [Excitedly.] Oh, yes you are. A Jingoist. 

Doctor. [Laughs.] 

Harold. [As before.] Your views and mine are different, 
Doctor. I've been poor and you haven't. That may ac- 
count for it. But sometimes when you've talked patriotism 
and glory up to me — you know how I mean — I've had hard 
work to remember that you're my best friend; Mother's best 
friend. 

Doctor. I've only tried to make you feel what every man 
ought to feel for his country. 

Harold. The State has got you hypnotized. But it 
hasn't got me and it won't get me. I won't fight in a war 
I had no voice in declaring. I won't fight for a wrong prin- 
ciple. I won't shoot my own brothers . . . that's all there 
is to it. 

Doctor. [Gently.] Harold, you aren't standing on a 
soap box and this isn't a street corner. This is just between 
friends. [Again laying his hand on Harold's arm.] My dear 
boy, no one is asking you to volunteer. This is conscription. 
You've got to go. 



38 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Harold. [Turning to him, ■fiercely.'] And you call this a 
free country? [With a short contemptuous laugh.'] 

Doctor. War changes everything. 

Harold. [Ignoring the answer, in the same manner as be- 
fore.] What's free about this country? Who's free in it? 
Are you? Am I? Can you use your profession as you want 
to? Can you use your judgment and your knowledge of 
life? [Hotly.] No. Of course you can't. Can I use my 
strength, my energy as I want to? No. I've got to use it 
— to kill. The State stuffs us full of patriotism and loy- 
alty until we forget every decent instinct in us. Love, gen- 
erosity, pity — everything goes but hate. We're turned into 
fighting beasts. That's all we are. 

Doctor. [Protests dumbly.] 

Harold. And then the hypocrisy of it ! Why doesn't the 
State say " Get out and murder ! " " Let's all be beasts ! " 
" Get out and kill ! " Oh, it can't get me with its talk of 
patriotism. No, by God, it can't get me. 

Doctor. Be sensible, my boy. What will you do? 

Harold. Pay, of course. I'll pay their dirty money. 



THE STATE FORBIDS 39 

Doctor. Then you'll send a substitute? You're not go- 
ing? 

Harold. No. I'm not going. 

[The door opens and Mrs. Nash enters, very 
frightened and white.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Very softly.] She's heard, Harold. Ralph 
has been — killed. [She covers her eyes with her hands.] 

Harold. [Starts.] 

Doctor. Oh, the poor woman. I'll go in to her. The 
first door to the left, isn't it? 

Mrs. Nash. [Nods.] 

Doctor. [Goes.] 

Harold. [Stands staring before him.] 

Mrs. Nash. Terrible, my boy, isn't it? 

Harold. [As before.] Killed! 

Mrs. Nash. [Putting her arm about him.] Thank God 
... oh, thank God . . . you aren't out there. 



40 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Harold. [Draws a little away from her.] Don't, Mother. 

Mrs. Nash. What is it, my boy? What is it? 

Harold. [Does not answer. ] 

Mrs. Nash. What's troubling you, Harold? What is it, 
dear? Don't keep anything back from your mother. [She 
waits an instant.] Of course if you don't want to tell me . . . 
you don't have to. 

Harold. I do have to. I wish I didn't. 

Mrs. Nash. You frighten me. What is it? Something 
Doctor Spencer has said? 

Harold. [Nods.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Not too tragically.] You're conscripted? 

Harold. Yes. 

Mrs. Nash. But you're not . . . 

Harold. I'm called [a pause — then resolutely] and I'm 
going. 

Mrs. Nash. [Completely changed.] Harold! 



THE STATE FORBIDS 41 

Harold. I've got to register at once — now. 

Mrs. Nash. You promised me even if you were called . . . 

Harold. To pay a price and send another man. 

Mrs. Nash. [Clinging to him.] Yes, dear, yes. 

Harold. [Staring ahead of him.~\ You can't pay for life 
with money. 

Mrs. Nash. But you said . . . 

Harold. I didn't understand until you came back from in 
— there. 

Mrs. Nash. Oh, my boy ... no ! ... no ! 

Harold. I'm trying to do what's right. 

Mrs. Nash. I need you. 

Harold. The man I'd send in my place probably has a 
mother. 

Mrs. Nash. [Breaking down.] Oh, Harold dear. 



42 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Harold. [Soothing her.] There, Mother dear, don't cry, 
don't. 

Doctor. [Knocks, opens the door and enters.] Poor 
woman. She's better alone. 

Mrs. Nash. Oh, Doctor, talk to him ! Tell him not to go. 
I couldn't bear it. He'll listen to you. He always has. 

Doctor. [Genuinely surprised.] Is he going? I thought 
that . . . 

Mrs. Nash. [Fiercely.] Don't you know that he's going? 
Didn't you come to get him? Aren't you trying to drag him 
away from me? Oh, Harold, my son, listen to me. 
i 
Harold. [Stands staring and thinking.] 

Mrs. Nash. They'll push you to the front, food for bul- 
lets ; they always do with the green ones. You told me they 
do. They did with her boy. [For an instant she is overcome 
at the thought.] Harold, listen. 

Harold. [Taking her in his arms.] Mother dear, please, 
I must go. I — 



THE STATE FORBIDS 43 

Mrs. Nash. [Turning away.] Help me, Doctor. Talk to 
him. 

Harold. [Soothingly.'] Hush, dearie. You're making 
too much of it. To-day I'm only going to sign . . . 

Mrs. Nash. And then you'll go to the front. They're all 
going. Oh, I know. Oh, Doctor . . . help me. 

Doctor. I'm as powerless as you are. 

Mrs. Nash. [Turning on him savagely.] Why did you 
come here? Why did you tell him? 

Doctor. It was my duty. 

Mrs. Nash. [Bitterly.] Once before I heard you quote 
your duty, when like a coward you wouldn't give me help. 
[With a glance at the idiot child.] You could have spared 
that child from being born. But you wouldn't spare it. 

Doctor. I couldn't. You are blaming me for things be- 
yond my control. I didn't make the laws. 

Mrs. Nash. [Excitedly and spontaneously.] The State 
won't let us women help ourselves. We must have children 
whether we want them or not. And then the State comes 



U THE STATE FORBIDS 

and takes them from us. It doesn't ask. It commands. 
We've got to give them up. [Shrilly.] I've got to give my 
boy. [Agarn bitterly.] What are we, we women? Just cat- 
tle! Breeding animals . . . without a voice I Dumb — 
powerless! [An instant's pause, then in intense rebellion.] 
Oh, the State! The State commands! And the State for- 
bids ! Damn the State ! 

Harold. Mother! 

Doctor. I wish that I need not have been the bearer of 
this message. 

Mrs. Nash. Years ago you wouldn't help me to end the 
suffering of an innocent soul. You wouldn't even turn your 
back while a thing went out into the darkness. But now 
you come to take him from me. You'd take the boy I've 
watched grow big and strong ... a man . . . and you'd 
leave that. [Points to the child.] 

Doctor. Dear woman, what can I do? 

Mrs. Nash. You said to put that child out of the way 
would be murder. The State would call it murder. Well 
. . . what's this? Tell me. Isn't this murder? Isn't this 



THE STATE FORBIDS 45 

life you are taking? [Savagely.] Oh, I hate you. I have 
hated you for ten long years. But I never knew how much 
until to-day. 

Doctor. [Gently.] You are unstrung. You don't mean 
what you are saying. 

Harold. No, Doctor, of course she doesn't. [Protesting.] 
Mother dear . . . [He comes and puts his arms about her.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Clings to him desperately and caresses him.] 

Doctor. [Looking at his watch.] Sorry, my boy, but 
time's almost up. 

Harold. [Gently putting his mother aside.] I'm ready. 
Mrs. Nash. [Clinging.] No, Harold . . . no . . . 
Harold. Let me go, dear. 

[Tlie two men start for the door.] 

Mrs. Nash. [In a changed tone, brokenly and appeal- 
ingly.] You . . . Doctor . . . You can't take him! 

Doctor. [Pauses and turns.] 



46 THE STATE FORBIDS 

Mrs. Nash. [Beggmg.] Don't you remember what you 
said? [Pointing to Poor Little One.] That ..." That's 
life. Crippled, imbecile, whatever it is, it is life and I can't 
take it." You said even an unborn thing is life. Oh, you 
won't, Doctor . . . now. You won't. You can't. 

Harold. [Pushes the Doctor out the door. They go.] 

Mrs. Nash. [Following to the doorway.] This is life you 
are taking! [She screams.] Harold! [She walks back into 
the room and tries to collect herself, pressing her hands tight 
to her throbbing temples.] It's murder! Murder! [For a 
second she stands irresolute, then falls face forward across 
the table sobbing violently. At the sound the idiot child 
raises its two hands above its head, claps them, together and 
bursts into a senseless piercing shriek of laughter.] 

curtain 



THE END 



